The ventilation shaft groaned as if the Hall itself were waking.

Georgie crawled faster, palms slipping on cold metal. Behind her, Josie breathed in quick, frightened bursts. Samson’s breath was harsher, laboured. And Elizabeth—light as a shadow—scraped along behind them, her movements unsteady but desperate.

Then came the sound.

A hollow thud.

Then another.

Something entering the duct behind them.

Something large.

Samson whispered, “He’s coming.”

Georgie twisted her head just enough to see past Josie’s torch glow.
A silhouette shifted in the duct—a man’s shoulders hunched to fit the space, arms dragging him forward with terrible determination.

Edwin.

His whisper travelled like a cold draft through t...

Please subscribe to keep reading.